The current issue of New York magazine includes an expose on the real lives of women who are using sex to get paid and get famous. No, they’re not prostitutes, but if you haven’t heard their names already, that’s only because there’s so damn many of them out there these days. From Vegas “nightlife hostess” and Tiger Woods paramour Rachel Uchitel to Manhattan clubs’ so-called “bottle hookers,” it seems that if you want to get your name in the Post these days, it’s not about being a socialite, it’s sure not about having talent, and you don’t even have to have slept with an elected official. All you need to do is have sex with or use your sexuality to hustle the right guy, and not only are you a player in the “21st century courtesan economy,” thanks to the internet, everybody will know your name. The twisted tale follows Uchitel — who, bizarrely, was famous before Woodsgate blew up because her then-fiance died in the 9/11 attacks — and “Kim,” a “bottle hooker” — that is, a waitress who provides bottle service in nightclubs (although, one gathers she offers additional services if the price is right). Together, their twin tales are totally depressing. Two attractive women sell their sexuality to get ahead — and guess what? Other than the big payday, what they make in cash they lose in self-respect. Kim ends up with a drug problem. And Uchitel? Let’s just say she won’t be on “The Martha Stewart Show” anytime soon.
Kim, who partied with the guys she serviced and hooked them up with women for sex, describes her now-previous vocation as “you’re half a stripper and half a pimp.” Uchitel, on the other hand, posits herself as some type of elite lady-friend to the horny and high-profile. “People took my job and made it a scandalous, negative thing,” Uchitel demurs these days. After a purported $10 million payout from Woods, she’s well-motivated to play discreet. And, if you think “hostesses” who hustle at the A-list level like Uchitel apologize for selling the power of their crotches to make a living, you’d be dead wrong. “I’m really offended by the notion that I used my sexuality,” she announces. In fact, she explains, she just has big breasts.
In a way, these women are something akin to next-gen Paris Hiltons. When Paris was just coming up in the celebrity ranks, many made a to-do about the fact that Miss Hilton was famous for having done little more than dance drunk on tables and pioneer the golden age of the nip-slip. Now, it’s only fitting that girls who hustle Cristal and women who turn out other, younger women to feed the libidos of athletes who can’t keep it in their pants are following in Paris’s footsteps. But what are we to make of them?
With their faces everywhere we click and their stories offered up as the day’s “news,” it’s more than likely that these women are making an impression in their own right: that all you have to do is bang the right dude, and — presto! You’re a star. It’s like when women get accused of sleeping their way to the top. Only, in this case, it’s true. And, without a doubt, not really glamorous. Mostly, it’s just pathetic.